


Picking Up The Broken Pieces

by KindOfEvil



Series: A Long Road to Your Heart [4]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Attempted Seduction, Developing Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Melkor Screws Everything Up, Other, Slow Burn, The Seduction of Mairon, Years of the Lamps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:01:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23827288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KindOfEvil/pseuds/KindOfEvil
Summary: Mairon decided to avoid Melkor. The Vala chooses to do something about it making things even worse in the progress.
Relationships: Morgoth Bauglir | Melkor/Sauron | Mairon
Series: A Long Road to Your Heart [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1715368
Comments: 10
Kudos: 61





	1. Part 1

Displeasure was one feeling He Who Rises In Might knew the best, for there were many things that made it ring amongst His notes. Although it rarely reached such strength that His whole discord roared with it, as was the case now. Ever since His last venture to His brethren's dwelling He was plagued with intense desire to see that one fiery Maia. The one that made His discord coil around itself. The one that made His song struggle with its notes. The one that made His fana react in the strangest of ways. The one that showed Him such disrespect yet He found it impossible to wish punishment upon such a delicate spirit.

His name was Mairon. The Precious one. The most admirable of them all. 

And He was the reason such an ugly feeling plagued His heart, for His Precious has taken a fancy to cling to Aulë's clothes. Before one could rarely if ever catch them together, now he seemed to be glued to his Vala's side. He also never stayed in the forge alone, as he used to. Always looking for some sort of company, to the surprise of both Aulë and his fellow Maiar. 

For Him it would not be a problem, He could deal with a couple of smaller spirits, the issue was His Little Flame choose to never step outside Almaren. And even though He was Arda's most beloved, its rightful king, He was forbidden from the place other spirits called 'home'. Still, He would sometimes slip through the shadows unnoticed and roam it's grossly symmetrical streets. Other times He could feel Manwë's piercing eyes upon Him. Oh, How He hated them, so much alike His own yet brighter. The feeling was mutual, all His kin despised His gaze. All apart from one bright flame, the only being that looked Him in the eyes and beheld them with wonder and not fear.

However, Mairon no longer desired to look upon Him and avoided Him. He tried to catch His Precious in the forge again, but under the watchful eyes of Aulë He could not get close. Even when The Great Smith wasn't there, Mairon would look for him the moment he spotted an overly suspicious shadow lurking about. He tried to catch him as he parted ways with other Maiar, however, the Maia would dart around the nearest corner and disappear in Almaren's maze of white walls. He told His spies to lure His Precious to Him, unfortunately, the Maia saw through His plan and refused to follow them. Nonetheless, they were not completely useless and actually managed to find where Mairon's dwelling was. Though, He was yet to find him there. 

How the Maia managed to elude Him was anyone's guess, even so the one thing was sure; He has underestimated His Little Flame. 

Ere long, Mairon's strange behavior sparked foul rumors among his fellow Maiar. Of how he craved Aulë's attention all for himself. Of how he saw himself on par with the Valar, just because he was the most skilled among Maiar. Of how he was only accompanying them to scoff and ridicule -completely ignoring the validity of his criticisms. They whispered of his vanity, pride, arrogance. On the outside it seemed like Mairon did not notice, and even if he did he cared not. But Melkor once caught a glimpse of his features, how they briefly changed after one especially foul rumor was uttered a bit too close to his ears. He saw how his shoulders dropped, ever so slightly. His eyes staring at a fixed spot at his feet, their light dimmed. Melkor did not like it, something ugly arouse within Him as He watched His Little Flame bear the burden of others jealously. So He took a fancy to hinder those who spoke ill of Mairon. He would mix foul things into their drink, break their creations, weaken their tools, blow out the fires of their forges, call insects and other vile beings to crawl into their bedsheets. It went well for a while, and His escapades hindered even The Great Smith. Though Aulë could not find any evidence he suspected who might be at fault. Unfortunately for him, Manwë was not willing to do anything without a solid proof, and it was not like Melkor to confess to anything.

All was well until one day Mairon noticed the hammer of one of his fellow smiths was about to fall apart -His masterful handiwork of course- and for some odd reason took it upon himself to fix it. Alas, the said smith showed up before it was done and accused His Precious of tampering with their tools. Mairon didn't even try to defend himself, calling other a fool instead. "Why would I hinder thy work? When even with the best tools and unlimited time thou still could not surpass my skill!" Of course His little one had quite a bite, He felt it on His own skin more than enough times, "Instead of accusing me of tampering with thy tools thou should take better care of thy things, perhaps then thou could craft something worth a while." Naturally the other did not take it very well and ran to his Vala to whine and moan. Aulë wasn't completely brainless, to His surprise, and dismissed the accusations. Even so His Little Flame got scolded for his words, as true as they were.

He choose not to mess with other Maiar afterwards, lest He get His Little Flame in trouble again. The good news was Mairon chose to avoid anyone's company again, the bad news was, for some baffling reason, Mairon grew ever colder towards Him. Always glaring at shadows he thought He hid in. Sometimes their eyes would meet and Maia would turn his head away as if He was an eyesore. Every time He tried to approach the Maia to speak to him, the other would turn into a flame and leave, sometimes even blowing smoke in His face while at it. At first He was angry, such insolence was unheard of! Yet, over time He started wondering what made such a wonderful spirit so hateful. Has He wronged him so much? Yes, He got him in trouble, but for once He had good intentions. He truly did not understand what earned Him such a scorn from the other spirit. He would ask, if His mouth wasn't immediately filled with smoke when He opened it.

As fate would have it, the Maia's luck ran out and Aulë called all his Maiar to help Yavanna with her seeds. This time His Precious could not get out of it. Mairon tried to reason that he was working on a really important project but Aulë would have none of it. "Thou need to go out more!" He reprimanded. "Holing thyself up all day in the forge, Even Melkor doesn't spend as much time in his shades as thou!" He said it as if it was a bad thing.

Mairon despaired, he attempted to keep close to his Vala, however, Yavanna pushed a pouch into his hands pointing him away. "These art a new kind, I desire them grown at a field behind northern forest, across the lake. So that they mix not with my other dears." He was forced to do as The Giver of Fruits wished and venture to the other side of The Great Lake, away from his kind and watchful eyes of Valar. They thought that area safe, so close to their little town. Oh how wrong they were. 

As soon as Mairon entered the forest, an idea sparked in Melkor's mind. He shifted into a more fitting form. One alike wolves -perhaps the noblest beasts that awoke within Arda- except His form was by far more massive. His fangs sharper, longer, protruding from His jaw. Instead of fur His tail remained slick and long. Pointed ears and horns still crowned His head. With a thick black mane around His neck and sharp spines running down His back, He was the image of terror itself. A perfect form for a hunter. He stalked the little one, excitement building within Him. Mairon noticed he was being followed fairly soon. He felt a strange shape lingering about woods, watching his every move. He grew weary and sped up his pace, turning left and right trying to escape the Vala. It was all for naught, the other would not stop following him. The Maia started running and The Dark One pursued after him. Seeing the speed of his pursuer he abandoned his physical form and flew as a living flame. Still, Melkor kept up and the fire-Maia could not escape. Mairon climbed the trees and Melkor followed, keeping his limbs in shape that could easily pull His body upwards, scraping at rough bark. He tried to hide in caves, but Melkor's eyes pierced their darkness. Hills, forests, meadows, ravines, no matter where His prey went he could not escape. Mairon soon grew tired, and was forced to stop in the tall grass. Barely keeping himself afloat. Exhausted, he returned to his physical form, heaving and panting. He crouched low in the grass, hoping to remain hidden. Shame Melkor knew this part of Arda far too well. He pounced, quickly changing into His preferred form midair. The Maia yelped as his wrists were grabbed and he was pinned face first to the ground.

"Release me!" The flame spat. 

"Nay!", Melkor laughed, "Thou hast been avoiding Me, Precious", He let the endearment roll off His tongue, as sweet as honey, "and now thou will be punished for thy actions!" He teased, pretending to be bitter. When in actuality the hunt has put Him in a good mood making him forget Marion's previous rude behaviour.

Mairon thrashed and flailed trying to push Him off, "Who wouldst not avoid thee?", his attempts were unsuccessful, since the other was much stronger that he.

His words, however, made Melkor's chest slightly too tight. "Why such foul words? When have I wronged thee?!" 

"Thou brute!" The Maia finally stilled, too tired to continue the struggle. He held himself up on his forearms, slightly turned to the other. "Thou art too rough!" Accusations flew from his all too perfect, incredibly soft lips along with heavy breaths of exhaustion. "Thou hurt me! And still hast gall to ask me why I avoid thee?!" Melkor kept quiet, smile no longer adorning His features. He watched as Mairon laid his head onto the soft grass with a huff. "I know what thee want from me, I am still unwilling to give it to thee." 

Oh? Melkor Himself wasn't sure what He wanted from the Maia, now that He thought about it. He just felt desire to chase Mairon a bit. "And what dost thou think I want from thee?" He asked with a wry smile.

For quite a while the Maia kept quiet... "To mount me..." He finally mumbled into the ground, a light blush creeping on his face. "Thou said it Thyself..."

Ah right! That! Well His Precious was not mistaken, His fana did desire him still, annoyingly so. "Why art thou so bothered by this?" He inquired, seeing the perfect opportunity to once and for all solve the riddle of His Little Flame's strange behaviour. "This is third time thou hast refused Me."

"Why?! That is not something Thou do with just about anyone!" 

He scoffed. "I'm not 'just about anyone'! Thou wouldst be mounted by a Vala, how many of thy kind can boast to have done the same?"

The Maia rolled his eyes. "Ainur cannot reproduce, and even if it were not so, I'm still a male!" He shifted again to glare at Melkor. 

"It bothers me not."

"The Children in the Vision did not engage in such behaviour." He tried.

"They did, I've seen it..." Melkor assured him. 

Mairon huffed in annoyance. "Of course Thou did." He hissed, more to himself than the Vala.

But now that Melkor thought about it; with The Children there seemed to be more to it than physical necessity, even some kelvar and olvar appeared to give it much more thought than necessary. Melkor racked His brain for answer while the Maia below Him remained silent and still. 

The light of lamps radiated brightly through clear cloudless skies. reaching its rays so far out it covered almost every corner of the world. Their excessive brilliance hurt Melkor's eyes, and He called forth thick clouds to block some of the harsh light. He could not think with that blasted heat trying to fry a hole through His head. Even the Maia beneath Him, whose features eased somewhat, seemed to prefer a slight shade over the blinding light. He reached into the pouch tied around his belt and took out a small seed -one of many He plundered from Yavanna's halls. Whispering few discordant notes to it He flung it aside. It shifted and grew as if the time was bent around it. Its roots dug deep into the ground, overturning the green strands of grass. Its hands intertwined and reached to the skies sprouting dark green jagged leaves. The newly grown tree stood alone amongst endless green, casting cool shadow over them. 

"Thou look for a permanent mate then?" Melkor finally decided to break the silence. The Maia regarded him with one fine brow raised, small sparks dancing around his hair, a sign of frustration. "Thou art unwilling to simply be mounted by Me. I understand some creatures mate for life, art thou looking for same?" The Vala clarified.

Mairon gave Him an unimpressed look. "I do not wish for a mate." A simple yet strange answer, for many rejoiced in companionship with another, alas it seemed His little Maia sought it not. "Especially one that hast no qualms about hurting me!" 

"If I treated thee gently, wouldst thou change thy mind? Wouldst thou then consider taking me for thy mate?"

Mairon was taken aback by such proposition, a Vala, adapting to Maia's wishes? "I... I have not thought about taking anyone as my mate, for I do not understand feelings required for such companionship." He admitted. "Thy feelings can be satisfied with other, why dost Thou seek me when I know not how to return them?"

"Only thou arise such desires within Me. Why I know not." Melkor leaned closer. "Perhaps if thou stay at my side thou will find the feeling thou seek?" He suggested.

The Maia seemed troubled by His words. "I...I cannot, my place is in Aulë's forge, amongst my kind. It is my purpose and I wish not to abandon it. Even... even if..." He trailed off not sure how to continue.

"I see..." Melkor tried to process the information given to Him. His words have distraught His little one and now Mairon's sorrowful notes resonated with His discord. His heart clenched unto itself causing Him discomfort. An odd feeling, He wished it gone.

The fire-Maia growled. "Satisfied? Now let go."

Melkor remained where He was. Mairon again tried to wriggle his wrists out of Vala's strong grip to no avail. "Be still. I'm thinking." Melkor demanded with a stern voice. His Precious stilled, tense as a bow-string but obedient for once.

Mairon was agitated, nonetheless, it was clear to him there was no escaping Vala's claws. Melkor shifted above him. Lying His lower body aside and letting go of his wrists but still keeping him pressed to the ground with His upper body. Both arms rested beside Mairon's head. The Maia observed His hands, then his gaze shifted to Melkor's tail, which coiled around them. Its tip gently moving up and down in front of his face. He moved, as much as he could under the intense weight of Vala above him, in a more comfortable position. Lying on his side, his cheek rested on the bent grass. With boldness unseen in any other Maia he reached to touch the slick skin of the strange appendage -a mixture between scales and skin. It coiled around Mairon's hand, keeping it in a firm grip, an automatic reaction. The Maia glanced up at Melkor, who focused onto something in the distance, His dark brows drawn together. Whatever it was Mairon wouldn't be able to see it from his position, so he closed his eyes, waiting for other to get tired of this game and leave. 

Moments later a piece of something hard fell short distance from his face. Mairon's eyes flew open darting around and then fixating on new object in front of him. It was a piece of shiny rock. Its surface a deep blue colour with a few specks of glimmering yellow. His song felt around its surface, trying to determine what it was.

Melkor smirked watching the Maia in amusement. He and Aulë created them as they shaped and reshaped the earth. In their struggle they mixed various substances creating these pretty things. As beautiful as they were Aulë saw no importance in them, focusing on working with metals. Knowing this it was no surprise the Maia seemed unfamiliar with this type of rock. A perfect distraction to chase away misery from his notes. Mairon looked up at Him in confusion. "For thee." Came the simple explanation.

The Maia shifted his gaze to the stone again, reaching with his free hand to take it. "Thanks." He said dully.

Melkor was perplexed by his reaction. He expected Mairon to be weak for gems. All Aulë's Maia were interested in Arda's substances. A single chip of unfamiliar stone would have them on their knees, such was their love for all things that hid beneath the surface. Still, it looked like His gift did not leave much of an impression on the Little Flame, even though it was much rarer than what He gifted anyone else. He brushed His discord across Mairon's song, feeling it. It was listless, no longer filled with gloom, yet also not as lively as it usually was.

Melkor hummed a few notes, there was slight whistle of discord and another stone plopped in front of the Maia drawing his attention. This time it was a cluster of crystals. A few scarlet gems growing on a light coloured rock. Flames crackled in excitement around the Maia's hair. His hand reached for it and stopped. Aha, much better! "This one thou won't find anywhere near Almaren, I gift it to thee Little Flame!" Melkor voiced, proud of Himself.

Mairon kept quiet for a moment then regarded Him with an indifferent gaze, he hummed another small thanks and brought the crystal to his chest. Was it still no good? For a moment the Maia seemed interested, did he read it wrong? Forge spirits were infatuated with their rocks, yet again this one proved to be more complex than others. How troublesome.

Another stone found its way before Mairon with a small thud. This one was a dark red colour like blood. It seemed as if it was glowing from the inside, a crimson light trapped inside a black rock. Mairon's song again resonated with excitement, yet the Little Flame acted as if He'd just given him a piece of gravel. Melkor was confused, He was getting worried now. Was there anything impressive enough for this little one? Perhaps the pretty rocks were not to his liking. He did seem more interested in actually useful objects. Questions swirled around His brain making His head spin. He never had to think THIS hard to figure something out in all His existence. Even other Valar weren't this nonsensical.

Just to be sure He sung a few more notes and summoned a different gem from His collection, dropping it in front of the Maia. It was pitch black, like a solid piece of the void, but unlike the cold empty darkness it had many colours trapped inside. Some dimmed and some glowed as shadows moved over it. This one ought to do it. He crafted it in the image of His own lights, His Precious was amazed by them last time. Surely something as magnificent as this gem will make His Little Flame lively again.

Melkor watched the fire-Maia with confidence; he lay still as a carcass, even his song muted.

His heart dropped to His stomach. Did He somehow offend him again? "Dost thou not like it?" Melkor asked, growing anxious. Mairon hid his face in the grass and trembled, his theme now wailing in distress. Melkor was at loss. What had He done now? Was His Precious in pain? He should not be. What has disturbed him so much? A whimper sounded beneath Him, it formed into words but they were too muted to hear. "What's wrong little one?" He reached to gently touch the other's chin, "What dost thou say?"

"...'Tis truly e-exquisite..." Mairon admitted in defeat, sounding as if Arda itself started crumbling to bits. He extended one trembling hand. Slowly taking the rock closer to his face, he traced his fingers over the uneven surface marvelling at its beauty.

Melkor untied his tail from Mairon's hand to wave it around. "It brings me a great pleasure to know it pleases thee!" He finally relaxed. Mairon's fire returned in all its glory. A warm light dancing beneath His tender skin, He could not stop Himself from tracing one glowing vein of light. His finger creating a slight dip as it moved over velvety surface. A bit of pressure would have it broken and bleeding. He wondered How it felt; to be at mercy of such a power. No wonder the Maia was so worried about being hurt by Him. His strength could never measure to that of a Vala, especially one such as Him. He wrapped His hand around Mairon's wrist. This time He only held it gently, moving His thumb across skin. Still it was impressive, just how hot His flames burned. He wished them set free, roaring like inferno. Wild, yet so tame and gentle in His arms. Closing His eyes He brought Mairon's hand to His lips, to feel its warmth. The Maia shivered beneath Him and Melkor offered a reassuring smile as He released slender limb.

"Dost not think Thou can buy me with a few gifts!" Mairon growled, the sound losing any actual warning as his voice trembled around words, "I am still displeased with thou, and my mind remains unchanged about being Thy mate or letting Thou mount me!"

Melkor sighed in disappointment, this darn Maia was so hard to please. Oddly enough He still did not regret giving him the gems. 

They lay together under the clouded skies. Gentle rustling of grass and leaves, the only sound around them, followed by occasional call of some beast or insect. The green grass reached its strands above them, almost completely hiding them in its embrace. For miles there was nothing but lush green. The faint contours of far away mountains and forests the only thing that separated verdant sea from light blue of the sky. But neither of them paid attention to their surroundings; Mairon turned the stones in his hands, preoccupied with examining them and Melkor observed him. His every movement, no matter how slight it may be, absolutely captivated Him. Sometimes His Little Flame would glance up at Him, confusion visible in his eyes but they quickly returned to the gems. Melkor found that He enjoyed spending time with the little Maia like this, something He felt with no other being. Even the fires in the depths of Arda couldn't bring Him so much pleasure. He often wondered at the strangeness of it, why did this little spirit affect Him so? There seemed to be no answer, and little by little His desire to find one lessened. They fit each other perfectly, it was simple as that. Though He was still unsure how to approach the little one. Usually a word or two about his power, a slight demonstration of it, would be enough to turn the minds of Maiar away from their Vala. Enough to have them crawl and beg before Him. An upturn of lips would have them singing praises and a slight scowl would send them pleading for forgiveness. There has never been a Maia who dared to refuse Him, apart from this one. And it seemed He wasn't the only one, not even Aulë could get him to do what he wished not. He would agree to the request but often gave it no importance - especially if it involved staying out of forge. The only thing he was willing to do was craft. Melkor made a mental note to gift him some high quality tools next time, or a full forge. A personal space where He could work undisturbed and burn as he wished might convince him to switch his allegiance. Then He could watch the Maia work all time not having to worry whether Aulë will show up or not. How wonderful that would be, they would always be close and He could even take the little one to watch Him reshape Arda. To watch in fascination as all elements bent to His will. And when others finally realized who their rightful king was, He would take His Little Flame and keep him by His side as He sat upon the throne rejoicing in all that was His. 

Satisfied with the image He coined in His head, the Vala returned to reality. Mairon seemed content with his current position so Melkor slowly lifted His weight, and set Himself next to the Maia. Hand stretched to caress the soft strands of Mairon's fiery hair. The other regarded Him for a bit, a strange glint in his eyes. Too late did He realise what it meant. "Oh no, thou don't!" The fire spirit was surprisingly nimble and it slipped through His claws, yet again. He cursed and shifted His form into a black cloud racing after the smaller spirit. This time He thought not to enjoy the hunt and simply sought to entrap the other once more. However, it proved to be difficult, Mairon found how to evade Him, he no longer relied on his speed but his cunning. He would let the Vala get close and then dart in the other direction. Smart little thing. Knowing his weakness to cold Malkor began chasing him up to the mountains, hoping the cold would drain him, making the capture easier.

Grass gave way to rock and rock soon became snow. They chased around the frozen peaks and before long the Maia was forced to take a physical form to ward his spirit from bitter cold. He fell upon his knees at the edge of a cliff. Melkor stopped a small distance from him, "Why dost thou run from Me?" He asked.

"Why dost Thou seek to capture me so?" Mairon bit back, voice full of desperation. He coughed as cold air entered his lungs.

"Do not be afraid little one. No pain will I inflict upon thee." Melkor approached further. "Dost thou not like it? Staying close to Me?" 

The Maia didn't answer, He bent over, strained noises leaving His throat. Weak, painful notes drowned in the howling wind.

They were too high up... "Come, this is no place for a burning one such as thyself." Melkor extended His hand beckoning other to take it. "I will keep thee warm."

Mairon looked at it with distrust. "Nay! Thou wouldst capture me!" He yelled, as loud as he could.

As his voice echoed through the cruel tempest a crack broke between them. A single line upon frozen surface. For briefest moment the world stood still. They both stared at it in horror. Mairon lifted his hand as if to reach for Him, and He too rushed to grab the smaller spirit. Alas, it was too late. With one final whine the ice gave in, shattered from its perch, taking the fire-Maia with it. Their hands, so close He could feel what little warmth was left in the other's body, remained parted.

It was all too loud and too quiet at the same time. He was only vaguely aware of rocks and snow falling all around Him. His fana disintegrated into a screeching dark shade as He flew like an arrow after the ember already lost in white chaos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was actually about 7000-8000 words in length, but I felt that too much was going on without a break so I cut it in two - not to mention I'm kinda sitting in a pile of work so it would take me ages to tidy it all up.  
> Enjoy the cliff hanger! Oh wait you can't 'cuz the cliff just went rolling down the mountain, HA! (I hate myself...)


	2. Part 2

He sprinted through Almaren's streets, as silent as a shadow thanks to his altered limbs. Carrying a broken form of His precious Little Flame in His arms. It didn't take long to locate Aulë's halls, for He had made His way there many times and already knew number of passages leading to it, all of which could be safely traversed without alerting rest of His kind. They soon came into view; A large building, as white as the rest of them, with decorated doors large enough even for His fana whose height tended to dwarf all those around Him. If He were not in such a hurry He would have stopped to observe the faint engraved designs, alas, there were far more important things on His mind right now. He pushed the heavy door open with His foot. Thankfully the place was empty, Aulë and his Maiar haven't yet returned from their field trip. Passing the entrance hall, Melkor made His way through labyrinth of hallways, past the forges and numerous storerooms, until He reached an arched exit which opened to a small yard surrounded by arcades with smooth columns and leafy capitals. The Vala continued onward, following the path to the living quarters. He glided past many arched doorways that led to Maiar's rooms before stopping in front of the one He knew very well. A silk red drapery hung around the entrance making stark contrast with the white of the decorated stone. Intricate designs rose on both sides reaching their climax in ornamental medallion at the highest point. Melkor nudged the veil aside entering the room.

It was fairly small, a standard for a Maia's dwelling. To his left was a simple empty stone platform -a bed, a sorry excuse for one, but a bed nonetheless. Next to it stood a small round stone table with a scatter of metal scraps and tools. A square stone chest for storing clothes and tools was pushed to the faraway wall. The wall opposite of Him was decorated with an arcade which divided into three semicircular arches, identical red veils covered them blocking the light of the lamps. Some rays still made their way through small gaps between them. Right before Him was an empty fireplace in front of which lay what could only be described as a nest made of a large pillow and two woollen blankets on a simple rug. He approached it and lowered Maia's body gently onto the soft surface. The other groaned, slowly regaining consciousness.

Mairon's bones were broken in several places, his skin marred with scars, some too deep for His liking. Was he not a Maia the damage would have been lethal. "Abandon thy form, little one, it is ruined." He urged, probably for hundredth time in duration of their trip.

"Nay!" The Maia refused.

"Why art thou so stubborn? Even if thou shift thy form, thy fana will remain broken. Abandon it, thou can easily create a new one." Melkor tried to reason.

"I can not, ... no... energy..." Mairon panted, his breathing sounded impaired.

"Then take some from thy Vala, or better yet, request Mine!"

"Nay..." 

Stubborn little thing! Why did he refuse what seemed the most sensible solution! He wished He could just destroy his fana and forge him a new one, however that would cause His Precious even more pain. It was already questionable if the Maia will ever again harbour any good feelings towards Him. He did not need to make it worse. Mairon coughed and a painful screech voiced in his music. "Why?" He asked, unsure what to do. His Little Flame was in pain and there seemed to be nothing He could do to ease his suffering. He always thought it pointless to worry about such a thing. Pain was a part of being alive. For Him it was a simple displeasure that quickly vanished once His discord took care of the bruise. The Maiar, like many other beings that inhabited Arda, seemed to be much more sensitive to it.

Mairon didn't answer Him, clinging stubbornly to his fana and trembling in pain. His glow dimmed, even his skin and hair lost some of their colours. Melkor reached His clawed hand towards Maia's head. Noticing the red stains He opted to reach for his chest instead, gently pushing Mairon's garments out of the way.

"Rea-ly?" His Precious asked in disbelief coughing some blood, "Thou beast!" he accused.

"Who art thou calling a beast!?" the Vala growled as He lay His hand upon golden skin.

"Thou would force Thyself on me," His Little Flame grieved, "At my weakest!?"

Melkor was taken aback, did Mairon really have such a low opinion of Him? The Vala grunted in annoyance. "Stay still and do not speak!" He ordered and turned back to His task. Mairon was of no mind to cooperate and tried to move away, alas, his weak body could not make much distance between them. Melkor pushed His palm against the fire-Maia's breast feeling the temperature, the pressure made Mairon shut his eyes with a soft cry. He ignored it, a faint heartbeat thumped against His palm. Notes of life and warmth, barely audible. Mairon's core was far too cool for a fire-Maia. No wonder his body was losing heat so quickly. Melkor sang a few notes, igniting His own core and letting heat travel down His arm into the other's body. He would have tried healing him, but He never attempted such thing before, and all His firsts ended in a disaster -that much even He was willing to admit. The first time He tried reshaping a Maia's form ended with it's insides splattered across the cave walls -it was far too risky. He shifted closer, looming over Mairon's fana, trying to keep the other warm. His gaze shifted to the fireplace, "Where is the wood?" The Maia hummed a weak question. "For the fire", He explained earning an annoyed look from the other. Ah right, they forbade it. Reaching within His discord He summoned a flame of His own and threw it inside together with some coal and dry branches. The fire quickly devoured the wood and leaped its warm tongues across the coal. Heat soon spread throughout the room. He turned back to the Maia and gently nudged him against the blanket covered pillow. Mairon cracked his eyes open to regard Him warily. Anguish was clear in his eyes. Even so, Melkor had hard time understanding what exactly the Maia was feeling right now. Do such wounds really hurt so much?

"The fire... forbidden... " came a faint voice.

"They will not know," He assured His Little Flame, "'tis only important for thee to warm thyself, let Me worry about the rest." He got up and started rummaging through the room in search for more things to warm His Precious with. Mairon sent Him a couple of sharp notes, displeased with the way the Vala handled his belongings. Melkor paid them no mind as He let the stone lid of the chest fall with a echoing thud. Besides some flimsy clothes there wasn't anything else. He sighed. Is this how all Maiar lived? He made a mental note to cover His own bedchambers with thick furs, accompanied by large soft pillows and high quality silks. Perhaps He should also add a couple of fireplaces -that should keep His Precious warm. With a decisive hum He returned to the pile in front of the fireplace.

Maybe He should try to heal him, how hard can it really be? It should be fine as long as He takes His time. Determined to at least attempt to fix Mairon's fana, He sat down and took the Maia's head in His hands, singing a few hesitant notes. Mairon gave a low sound of discomfort but let other do whatever He wished. The ghastly wound started slowly closing, His harsh notes forcing the skin to repair itself. Judging from the face His Precious was making it did not feel good. "I'm new at this, little one." Melkor laughed nervously as He observed His handiwork. It was not as bad as it initially looked, a faint scar remained, however, it should go away once Mairon gathers enough strength to get rid of it. Next He turned His attention to Maia's torso. He tugged at the soft tunic when a hand stopped Him. Mairon shot Him a warning through half-lidded eyes.

"I will not do anything to thee!" He growled, just how bad of an image did His little one have of Him?! "'tis wet, thou won't be able to warm up like this." He pointed out, "Worry not, I'm only going to help thee heal." The Maia still wasn't convicted. "I can't completely fix thee but it should lessen the pain." He explained. Mairon's hand moved as He pulled his tunic over his head revealing the soft skin beneath, then it returned to His wrist, warning Him not to try anything. He pushed down the urge to run His hands all over fire-Maia's skin -not only would it cause His Precious more pain, he would probably abhor Him 'til the end of times. Instead He focused on rearranging the misshapen rib cage to its original form. Slender fingers tightened around His arm, but His Little Flame didn't protest. He let Mairon bury his head into His other hand as He worked.

Time passed by around them, though neither of them noticed, too focused on the task at hand. By the time He was done the Maia's breathing was a bit easier. He offered reassuring smile and wiped the sweat from Mairon's brow before using His song to find other places his fana got damaged. He fixed a few long gashes and scratches -those were easy enough, then moved to Maia's broken leg. Mairon stopped Him when He reached for his pants and no amount of reasoning could change his mind this time. With an annoyed huff, He rolled them up to access the broken limb. The bones took the longest, He figured. Judging from Arda's song quite a while has passed. Still, He managed to patch them well enough, with time they will return to their original state -unlike those of The Children. Thankfully Maiar were a bit sturdier.

The process took a bit of power from Him -a large bit, more than it should have. It was normal though, He remembered the first time they started shaping the world, they would run out of energy quickly, until they figured out how to use it more efficiently. The more He practices reshaping someone else's fana the better He would be at it, although He hoped He would not have to use His skills to heal His Precious ever again. With a final congratulatory nod to Himself, He turned around and moved behind the nest Maia made -the thought of it still amused Him. Melkor lounged upon the pillow, resting His head on His hand. Mairon glanced at Him then just as quickly turned away, his song strumming agitated notes. "Dost not be like that, little one," Melkor urged. "I have fixed thy bones, thy fana will be fine." He got an angry screech of a song, as unpleasant as dragging nails across wall. "Art thou angry with me?" The Vala inquired. Mairon hummed a confirmation. Something stirred within Him, chewing at His insides. 

Melkor's discomfort increased. "I did not wish to hurt thee." His throat contracted around the words, as if it was trying to choke Him.

Mairon hummed again, adding softly, "Thou dost not listen, Thou are too rough."

"Nay, thou art too fragile!" He demanded. Mairon refused to look at Him, curling in on himself. "Dost the pain cause thee such a great discomfort?" It was a genuine question, though it did not sound as one. Mairon turned slightly to Him and reached for His hand, which He gave willingly. He brought it to his warm lips pressing them against His palm. Melkor sighed as the gentle warmth caressed His skin, a smile creeping on His face. His Precious, offering a loving gesture, such a rare sight...

And then the Maia bit down.

With a piercing cry that echoed through the whole Almaren and beyond Melkor ripped His bleeding hand from Mairon's mouth. He looked at him in disbelief, "Thou bit me!" 

"Dost the pain cause thee such a great discomfort?" His Precious purred smugly whilst licking the grim liquid from his lips. "He Who Rises in Might?" he added with a toothy grin.

Melkor glared at him, urging His discord to wrap around the smaller spirit. It pushed him down with intense weight, forcing a strangled gasp out of him. Tears pooled in the corners of Maia's eyes. "Thou need to learn some respect!" Melkor roared before turning His attention to the deep wound on His hand. A row of small holes, covered in blood darker than that of any other being. He felt it pulsate. The already ugly feeling was also accompanied with a burning sting, it was very uncomfortable, far more so than previous burns He got from His Precious. Those didn't even singe His skin. Something about the wound made His insides twist. He quickly hummed His tune willing it to close and heal. For a while He tried to decide whether to teach the lesser spirit a lesson or not. The said Maia was whimpering on the ground, trying desperately to breathe. His slender form trembling. Sweat started forming at his brow again. Something about the picture made His chest contract. "Is this how thou felt?" Melkor asked trying to keep His voice stern.

"Worse." The other coughed. "Thy bones are far too thick for me to chew through." 

Melkor stared at him, then at His healed hand, and back again. "Thine point was made." He concluded slouching back down onto the pillow and releasing the other from icy grasp of His discord. He could let it pass this time, He supposed, after all it was well deserved. Though He was not happy about it. The Maia rasped, fighting for breath, then sobbed and drew his knees up against his chest. Melkor reached with His free hand to wipe his face but the other flinched away from His touch. "I just wish to help thee." He tried to reason.

Mairon wept, tears rolling down his face. "Thou art too rough." 

"I am not!" Melkor complained. Though the words made Him stop, unsure if that was true or not. Judging from how much His Precious repeated those words to Him there had to be something to them. He moved to wipe the tears from Mairon's face. He did not recoil this time out of fear what other might do if angered again. "Art thee alright?" the Vala asked. Mairon looked at Him with teary eyes and turned away burying his face in the blanket.

Great now He made him cry. "Shh, Little Flame." The words made Him gag, reminding Him of the way The Children will speak to their offspring. "I dost not understand thy pain, Little Flame, for I have not experienced it Myself. Thy... demonstration, was somewhat useful, however, it would be far more effective to let Me look at thy mind and see for Myself thy feelings." 

"Nay, Thou wouldst just hurt me again..." Mairon roared into the soft material. "Like Thou always does. Admit it! Thou dost not care for me! Thou only seeks pleasure my fana can give thee!"

His words made Melkor wince. "I-" He started, 'care' was not a word He would use for another being. He cared about His Arda, His kingdom, His treasures. Did He care about the Maia before Him? Or just the pleasure as the other pointed out? He reached to touch him again, grabbing at his body, the Maia winced and He struggled to ease His grip. From Mairon's song He could tell it still hurt. He tried relaxing His hand further, as much as He could until it was only lying gently on the other's body. Feeling not only the physical form but also the spirit residing in it; The flames that always locked around His discord, falling so comfortably in place, filling all His gaps and letting Him do the same to them. It was far from just physical, the Maia's spirit fit perfectly against Him as if it was a part of Him. Alas, the flames fled now, afraid that the violent torrent of disharmony will quench them. He tried to calm them, moving His notes, gently as He did His fana, to reach for the flames and caress them. They only stilled after they had nowhere else to run, shivering, crackling in fear. They bent as He willed, but did not lean into Him as before. The only harmony His song ever created lay broken before Him. Torn to pieces by His own actions.

Suddenly, He found it hard to breathe and had to get up to pace around the room to calm His thoughts. No, no, no... It could not be! The warm melody of His Precious melded with His turbulent notes as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Ever since their first meeting, when He first beheld his song, He knew that it was the tune which could play along His own. It filled a hole within Him He was not aware of. He became addicted to the connection their souls established whenever they were close. Now He lost it. Melkor raised His hand to His chest. Agony spread from beneath His hand throughout His vast darkness. It felt suffocating, more painful than any pain He ever experienced. He turned back to the Maia, approaching with a careful step. Melkor let out a breath He did not realize He was holding. "I care." He murmured, "For thee." A revelation. The Maia did not react. "Not only thy physical form, but also thy spirit... Thee whole." He continued, kneeling down behind the other spirit. «Mayazônôz» His song echoed. "I hath brought thee anguish. Forgive Me." The words felt foreign upon His mouth, yet a great weight lifted from His chest.

Mairon turned slightly. "Thou... apologize?" He asked in wonder. "Thou art a Vala, Thou art not supposed to apologize..." The Maia panicked his own turmoil forgotten for a moment.

Melkor leaned to touch their foreheads together, closing His eyes. "Thee art the first I ever spoke this way with." He chuckled. "Reach for Me little one, with thy spirit. I promise, no harm shall My discord inflict upon thee ever again." For a moment nothing changed, then a faint warmth licked across His notes. He sighed, regaining His ability to breathe. «Mayazônôz» "My precious Little Flame." 

«Belekôrôz» Mairon sighed, his words sweeter than any of Arda's delights. However, his melody still stayed back, barely touching Him.

"Art thou afraid of Me?" Melkor asked mournfully. The Maia didn't answer Him, he didn't need to, as He could feel it radiate from his spirit;

Yes, incredibly so, though he wished not to be.

It was His fault, He should not have treated His Precious the way He did. He now recognized the feeling threatening to devour Him from the inside; Guilt. "Oh, little one... I wish not for thy suffering, I wished not to hurt thee."

"Thou chased me into the frost," Mairon cracked his eyes open. "Thou strangled me with Thy discord."

"I did." Melkor admitted regretfully, after a short pause. He shifted, moving closer and curling His long tail around them. "Will thou loathe Me from now on?" No answer. "I wish to make this right, little one." His whole body tensed. "I..." He didn't know how to continue.

"I know... Thou reached for me... I saw." Mairon sighed. "Thou brought me back and healed me, when Thou could have just stolen me away."

"Thou would abhor Me for it." He pointed out.

"Aye, I would." The Maia growled. He looked up, staring into Melkor's pale eyes. "I wish not to resent thee." He admitted, "I dost not wish to fear thee... but Thou hurt me."

"I promise thee," «Mayazônôz» "I shall never again cause thee pain."

"Dost not make such promises, thee know well it is not so simple."

They moved, nuzzling against each other. Enjoying the feeling of their songs reaching to one another, wishing to orchestrate a new tune. It muddled their minds, making it impossible for them to think about anything but each other. They chuckled together, tensions lifting for a moment. "What will make thee desire Me close?" The Vala asked.

The Maia sighed pulling away. "I know not. 'Tis only important for Me to warm myself, I shall let thee worry about the rest."

He did so love to throw His own words at Him. However the note of uncertainty did not escape His ears. His Precious was testing Him. "Be bold, as thou always have been. I shall not punish thy words, no mater how sharp thy tongue becomes." He reclined on the pillow, Mairon now turned to Him, with his back to the fire. He reached to stroke the smaller spirit's body, letting the Heat from His core melt over His hand into Mairon's fana. "See I can be gentle" He purred. Mairon didn't answer Him but he did lean into His touch, closing his eyes. A small victory. 

He soon found that Mairon's body was still not warming as fast as it should have. Heat easily escaped from his cold skin. Melkor reached for the belt of His cloak freeing the clasp. He pulled it over His shoulder and let it fall across Mairon's slender form before letting His hand return beneath it to caress his skin. The thick fur helped keep the heat inside, letting it circulate across Maia's body. Mairon sighed, content.

"Feeling better?" Melkor questioned slyly. 

A quiet mumble answered Him, "... 'm tired..."

Melkor whispered some calming notes. "Rest, I shall watch over thee." He watched as His Precious slipped into a deep sleep. Hopefully when he wakes up he will not immediately blow fire in His face. 

* * *

Melkor did not know when He had fallen asleep, but apparently He had. He woke up to an empty spot in front of Him, embers still glowing faintly in the fireplace. He looked around noting that His cape was draped around Him. It carried a faint, pleasant smell. He recognized it was Mairon's, sweet and warm as the Maia himself.

"Thou art still here?" The displeased voice behind Him asked. He looked over His shoulder. Mairon stood at the entrance with a silver plate filled with fruit. He was dressed in new clothes, as simple as the ones he was wearing before. Black Loose-fitting trousers and a thin creamy tunic that fell casually over his form. It left too much to imagination in Melkor's opinion. With a slight limp he made his way back into his makeshift nest. Mairon sat down and leaned against the pillow resting his head next to Melkor's hand, the plate on his lap. Melkor eyed the delicious fruit. "Go away." The Maia demanded. 

"Quite energetic art we?" Melkor mocked, He was glad to see His little one was doing well. "Where have thou been? Thou should not be moving in that state." 

"Should I have waited for my Vala to come and find thee here?" The other asked. "Have Thou perhaps wanted to boast about what Thou have done to his Maia?" Melkor's mouth formed a straight line, that was not a desirable situation. "I had to explain my failure to do as I was told." By the tone of his voice it was clear the Maia disapproved of disappointing his master.

"I see... What did thou tell him?"

"That a certain other Vala pushed me off a cliff, laughing at my demise." The said Vala tensed at his words. He scoffed. "I told him I was attacked by a strange beast in the woods, barely making it back alive, lord Oromë is hunting for it now."

Melkor huffed, "I dost not appreciate thy humour, Precious." 

"That so? Perhaps if Thou treated Thy 'Precious' better he would try harder to amuse thee." Melkor tried to avoid his gaze. "Be gone now, Thou hast caused me enough trouble!"

"Not going to express thy thanks?" He asked.

"Thou art the reason I am like this!" The Maia growled. "I have no thanks to give thee! Be gone!" 

He could deal with not being given thanks for His efforts to heal and take care of him, but the way His Precious shunned Him crossed the line. "Fine!" He snarled and got up. The Maia flinched away, expecting punishment. Which would not come, for He still remembered His promise. It is why He choose to leave before His temper made Him do something that would make Him lose Mairon's trust forever. With one final glance at the Maia He made His way towards the doorway.

"Be gentle!" called the voice behind Him. He turned. Mairon was looking at Him tiredly, a rosy warmth across his face. "This form is fragile, so next time... be gentle." He murmured into the pillow.

Something moved within Him partially washing away His anger. "Thou art so demanding." He chided and sent a few more embers and coals flying into the fireplace.

A weak, "I thank thee..." melted away the rest of His foul mood.

He twisted back and stepped outside, "Rest well."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally done!  
> Imagine Mairon showing up in front of Aulë looking like he got run over by a stampede;  
> Aulë looking at Mairon's beat up form: What in the name of Eru happened to thee?! Yavanna what kind of seeds did thou give him?!
> 
> -I'm not sure if it was clear, but the fireplace in Mairon's room was supposed to be powered by his own powers (Or Aule's)


End file.
